When the King Can't Stand
by California Mountain girl
Summary: Comfort/sadness/one shot. When they are traveling to try to stop the reactors from overloading, it doesn't go well. The group Bellamy and Clark are leading is ambushed, and they are pushed back to where they started the day before. Bellamy yells at the troops. Clarke doesn't understand it. She finds out.


When the King Can't Stand

It was drizzly wet and cold that day when they were ambushed.

The endless rain that lasted for weeks kept falling even after Bellamy and Clarke had dragged the last of their soldiers into an abandoned military bunker. As it was, Clarke only called them soldiers to appeal to their egos. They were only kids with guns. But it was their mission to reach the heart of the nuclear reactors before it was too late to stabilize them.

But they had lost half of their fighters in one day at the ambush in a valley, forcing them back to where they had started that morning.

Closing the heavy metal door to the bunker, Bellamy and Clark groaned from the effort as the rusty door shrieked as its hinges fought against themselves. The bunker had been built into the side of the mountain, and they had managed to park the jeep inside as well as bring in the last of the horses. It was a large enough bunker, but nowhere near as large as Mount Weather.

They separated the wounded from the warriors, Clarke doing her best to help those who she knew wouldn't make it through the night. She gave them painkillers, and stationed someone to sit with them for as long as it took. Bellamy made sure that the rations were passed out to the troops standing guard first, keeping a wary eye on the continuing rain.

They worked separately. Tirelessly. Endlessly.

Clarke was eventually taken away from her work when Jasper came up behind her.

"Bellamy wants all of us in the main room," Jasper said, his head tilting back in the relaxed I-don't-care way that he had come to constantly possess.

"Why?" Clarke asked quietly.

"I don't know," Jasper muttered, "Don't care, either." Toting his machine gun, he turned away.

Letting out a sigh, Clarke finished what she was doing in that moment, and followed Jasper through the dimly lit bunker halls to the main underground area. Finally, the hall opened up, showing a large room with the remaining able-bodied troops sitting in a large semi-circle. Bellamy was off to the side, giving orders and motioning with one hand. He looked exhausted, his hair clinging to his face and his features ashen with an unhealthy sheen on his skin.

It was painfully reminiscent of the camp that Clark remembered before her mother and the rest of the sky-people arrived. Bellamy was rallying the troops. Or at least she was hoping he was. She had been covered in blood up to her elbows all afternoon and she knew that the troops were drooping just as much as she was.

He saw her come into the room, and gave her a slight half-nod. Bellamy had been waiting for her, and now that she was here, he would say whatever he had to.

Clarke sat down heavily in a chair, her body exhaling when she was able to finally come to a sitting rest.

"We're all here," Bellamy said gruffly, "We need to recount today."

The people around Clarke let out a long sigh, and she tried her best not to do the same. Where was Bellamy going with this?

"We lost ten outside, and so far five more of us won't make it through the night," Bellamy said, his voice growing louder. "Do you think this mission is a joke?"

Nobody said a word, the crushing numbers making everyone numb. Everyone knew that this mission to the reactors was of utmost importance. But traveling so far into unchartered territory was terrifying, and they had already lost so many to natives and to wilderness.

"That ambush at the valley never should have happened," Bellamy grumbled, "Where were the scouts I sent out? Jasper?"

Jasper, who was standing at the back of the room, suddenly was the center of attention and his mouth dropped open, "I-I was scouting, Bellamy, I did my best, I didn't see them."

"Didn't see them?" Bellamy's voice rose to a yell, "Or were you too busy drinking that scum you cook up to notice?" Striding to the back of the room where Jasper stood, Bellamy grabbed the thin younger man by the collar and slammed him against the concrete wall, "What excuse do you have, Jasper!"

Jasper's eyes were as wide as saucers, and his mouth fell open as Bellamy's anger raged against him.

Clarke stood, "Bellamy! Bellamy stop!"

Ignoring Clarke, Bellamy slammed Jasper against the wall once more and then released him.

Jasper slid down the wall and sat on the floor, where he stared up at Bellamy, "I'm sorry!" He yelled, "I'm sorry, Bell!"

"You're not the only one who has lost someone!" Bellamy screamed, standing over Jasper, "We have all lost people." He turned to the crowd, who was now half standing and staring at him in shock. "We are going to lose everyone if we can't stop what is happening. Everyone is going to die and only we can stop it."

A deathly silence fell on the crowed as Bellamy's screams echoed in the tunnels of the bunker. Clarke could feel the sting of Bellamy's words, and she knew that everyone else did too. She wanted to defend the small band she had now, she wanted to take care of them and try to tell them that things would be better. But Bellamy had a point.

The group was still grieving when they should be fighting.

"We can't afford to lose anyone else," Bellamy's voice was rough and raspy from when he had yelled before, and his shoulders slumped as he said these quieter words, "No more losses. No more deaths. I need everyone to always be on guard and be ready to fight. If we don't make it through this, nobody makes it."

Exhaling, Bellamy turned away, and walked down one of the darker corridors.

Clarke could suddenly feel everyone's eyes on her, and she glanced. "We've got a long ride tomorrow," she said, "Post the first watch and everyone else, try to get some sleep."

Everyone nodded silently and did what they were told.

Turning to the dark corridor that Bellamy had walked down, Clarke considered following him. She had seen Bellamy's rallying of the troops before, but this was more painful than she had witnessed before. What was wrong with him?

That was when she decided to follow him. She had to do two things. The first was to demand to know what the hell he was thinking to yell at Jasper the way he did, and the other was to make sure he wasn't wounded in some way he had managed to hide from her.

She walked down the corridor until it grew darker and darker. Soon she could only barely see her hand in front of her face. That's where she found him, sitting with his back to a chilled concrete wall with his head lowered and resting in his hands. He was crumpled in on himself, nearly invisible in his dark jacket with his black curly hair falling over his face.

Clarke knelt in front of him, resting her hand on his shoulder in the cold darkness. "Bellamy?"

He didn't answer. He didn't move. He only sat against the wall, his head laying in his hands.

The only thing Clarke could hear was a far off dripping noise, and his ragged breathing. So she tried again, "Bellamy? Are you hurt?"

Once more, he didn't answer.

She didn't know where it came from, the small urge that she acted on. It was a simple thing. An innocent thing. It didn't mean that much, since they had done it countless times before. Reaching out, she wrapped her arm around his neck, drawing Bellamy into a hug.

That was when he quietly went to pieces.

Bellamy began to sob, burying his face against her neck. His hair was soft against her face and neck, while his breath came out in hot puffs and his tears were warm against her chilled skin.

"I'm so tired," he finally made out, "I'm so tired, Clarke."

She held him tighter, her heart starting to race. Something about it scared her. He had always been the silent strong one. To see him fall to pieces was something she wasn't ready for. All she could do was hold him tighter. His body shook, and she tried not to let her fear show through how tightly she held him.

"I'm tired too," Clark finally whispered, "After all this is over, we're going to have a drink and sleep for a week. Okay?"

He didn't respond. This silence scared her even more. Did he not truly believe that they could make it? Had he finally lost whatever last hope he'd ever possessed?

"Bellamy?" She asked, "You still have hope?"

His breathing started to even out, but he still held her, his face resting in the softness between her shoulder and her neck. "Do you?" Bellamy finally answered, his voice raspy from the tears.

"Remember what you said?" She asked, closing her eyes, "We're still breathing. There's hope."

Bellamy let something out that sounded like an attempted laugh. "Right."

Opening her eyes, Clarke moved back.

Bellamy released her, sniffing and rubbing at his face with the palm of his hand.

"Come on, we need to get some sleep," Clarke said, standing up. "I'm going to sleep in the jeep. What about you?"

Bellamy looked up at her, the shadows under his eyes visible even in the darkness. "I don't know," he muttered, "It doesn't matter."

Reaching down, Clarke took his hand in hers, "Come on. You're coming with me."

He stood slowly, "What are you doing?"

"The jeep is parked in the bay, and you're coming with me." Clarke said, taking him by the hand and half dragging him down the corridor.

"Why?" Bellamy muttered, his combat boots shuffling against the floor.

"We're stronger together," Clarke said, "So we're sticking together. You need sleep. And I need you to be ready for whatever we face tomorrow."

He didn't respond to that. Instead, he let her lead him through the corridors and past the rest of the troops as they slept. Finally, they reached the dimly lit mouth of the bunker where the horses were tied and the jeep was parked. Everyone knew that Clarke would bed down in the jeep, so they had left it empty for her. It was as if it was her personal space. Nobody ever invaded it.

Opening the back door of the jeep, she motioned for Bellamy to climb in. And he did. She followed him, shutting the door behind her.

Bellamy sat on the floor of the jeep, looking half dead.

"Find a comfy spot, soldier," Clarke said, "We're bedding down here."

Bellamy nodded, moving away several boxes of ammunition and clearing away a corner beside one of the hard seats. Leaning his head back against the side of door, he closed his eyes.

Clarke moved aside one of the removable seats, and retrieved two blankets. Moving on her hands and knees to where Bellamy sat, she wrapped a blanket around his shoulders.

His eyes opened halfway. "What are you doing, Clarke?"

Moving to sit beside him, Clarke gently and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled her blanket over both of them. "Keeping you warm," she answered, "Taking care of you."

Leaning over, Bellamy moved to rest his head in her lap, "Sounds good." He whispered, once again closing his eyes.

Clark tucked the blanket around him once more. When she was assured that he was warm enough, she brushed his dark unruly hair out of his face. She would put him back together, and then they would face another day. She couldn't do this without him.

Just as she was dozing off, she heard him whisper something.

"Thank you."

It was a quiet whisper on his exhaled sigh. Moving under the blanket, he found her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

They were both breathing. There was still hope.


End file.
